They say money is the root to all evil right? Renowned French director Robert Bresson may agree to that.
Loosely based on Leo Tolstoy’s novella The Forged Coupon, his final film L’argent (money) follows the downfall of a young-ish fuel truck driver, Yvon Targe (Christian Patey), who is given a forged Franc note that soon leads a series of downfalls that quickly ruins his life. The forgery, originally created by two young boys when one’s father wouldn’t give him a raise in his allowance to pay a fellow schoolmate, is the catalyst of a sequence of events that often feel like worse-case scenarios. The two boys buy something from a camera shop (only to turn their forgery into actual cash) and the shop in turn (knowingly) gives the fake to Yvon to get rid of it. Yvon is then “busted” by a coffee shop and is then put on trial and somehow found guilty. Well the camera shop employees do lie about recognizing him, but it’s too late for poor Yvon is fired for a crime he didn’t commit. Well once a criminal they say? Yvon then turns to seedy a life of crime and even tries to be a getaway driver in a botched robbery. Unable to catch a break and has to go to prison this time after being caught. It is there when he learns through a letter that his young daughter has passed away and his wife has to move on for her own sake. Crushed by the news, Yvon tries to commit suicide, but fails at that as well.
Things escalate at a quick pace in the world of L’argent, as characters are often non-contemplative or reflective in their actions. They exist in an isolative composition that seems to leave them entirely into the hand that fate has dealt them. Yvon, a man stricken down with the harshest of consequences for his actions, finally reacts beyond surrender. The ending, in which Yvon decides to massacre an entire farmhouse in which he was mercifully habiting in after being set free, is pretty oblique and well … strange. But it does fit the movie quite well in that the movie is a strange tale with a strange dark ending. The logic of it is perhaps is second to the statement it makes. In the same way you would put down a sick dog, Yvon decides to end it for the occupants who make up a duty-bound housewife, a drunkard ex-pianist, and even a crippled child. With very little violence actually shown, it’s a finale that blindingly builds and executes itself like an abrupt car crash.
Is it lunacy or just an unbridled expression of society in how madness is only a few misunderstandings away? Bresson would have you believe somewhat in both by my own estimation. Yvon personality is shaved down to just the bear minimum of being human. It’s a disorientating fable that is plainly spelled out. Yvon is our primary character, but his point of view is quite limited and never expressed outside of how people interact with him and their own inference.
One might describe Bresson’s own unique structure to be reflective of modern (the 80s that is) society as a whole, rather than draw empathy from the audience through emotion; the beginning immoral actions go unaccounted for by the wrong man. This is very much to Bresson’s credit as a film-maker and an artist who can at the very least end with a well-made surprise. I would imagine those feeling puzzled by the whole ordeal might feel not really cheated but having a cynical laden Hail Mary of an ending hoping to provoke an earned resolution, however bizarrely fitting. It’s a hell of way to end a career.
L’argent comes to the Criterion Collection for the first time on DVD and Blu-Ray with a restored 4K digital transfer, updated subtitles, and an uncompressed monaural soundtrack for the Blu-ray. Also included is the 1983 Cannes Film Festival press conference, a 50-minute film essay titled “L’argent”: From A to Z that dissects the film from an alphabetic point-of-view, the film’s trailer and an essay by critic Adrian Martin and a newly expanded interview with director Robert Bresson by critic Michel Ciment from 1983. For fans of Bresson, this is a very notable release that contextualizes not only L’argent but Bresson’s later career (he was in his early 80s when L’argent was released) style and his relevance in French film history. Bresson is quite grandiose in his Cannes incarnation and gives you an idea of what we’re working with when extrapolating the man’s work. The real prize for insight here is Martin’s essay which is quite lofty and over half as long as the film as it meticulously examines it from top to bottom. In what could have been a dull interview/analyzation of the film, we are instead treated with an almost obsessively perceptive viewpoint exploring what exactly makes L’argent interesting but also what it tries to convey cinematically. The booklet (always a plus) is also nicely put together and as usual, quite elegant. Criterion’s booklets are always hefty and feel essential when compiled as so. Hopefully they come back into fashion.
L’argent
France (1983)
Robert Bresson
Spine #886
Available on Blu-Ray, DVD, and Filmstruck
